Reality
by Alexis M. Riddle
Summary: Harry begins to notice certain changes between his two best friends and only when he witnesses the truth does he understand what's been happening all this time...


_Reality_

The sun was shining brightly and Harry Potter stirred in his sleep. It was growing late into the morning and he had still not gotten out of bed. Opening his eyes wearily, he quickly regretted it. His window was wide open and light was pouring in over his bed and filling the fifth year boy's dormitory.

Detention with Professor Umbridge had lasted late into the night and since it was Saturday, Harry had decided to indulge in his ability to have a lie-in. He rubbed his eyes then groped for his glasses lying on the bedside table. Putting them on, he rose and pulled his legs from under the covers.

The cuts on his hands stood out against his light skin in a bright red pattern forming the words "I will not tell lies." This phrase had been seared into his mind, and he thought now that it was no more than just a series of letters. There was no meaning, no lesson to be had. He had done nothing to deserve the punishment.

And yet, he still came to Umbridge's classroom every evening and continued to write the same words over and over again.

Every evening she would take his hand with her stubby fingers and tut.

It clearly hadn't sunk in yet.

But when would it? Harry knew the answer to that question. It wouldn't. He couldn't care less what that foul woman made him do, he had more important things on his mind. Even if the others were too blind to acknowledge it, he knew the dangers that lie outside the walls of the castle.

He shook his head and stood up, the floor cold beneath his bare feet. Taking one quick look around the empty dormitory, he dressed himself and made for the door. Hermione and Ron would be in the Common Room fighting, no doubt, and doing the homework they had been given for the weekend. For some reason, this fact stirred something inside him and he felt resentful toward the mere thought of those two.

Though he caught sight of them just on the other side of the common room, he felt far away from them. Miles away. The way they were sitting side by side, heads bent over pieces of parchment caused him to pause, fists clenched. His teeth grinded together and he held in thoughts; ideas ran by in his head like lightning. He could shout and yell, he could dance about in front of them wildly, he could even try hitting Ron about the head with his wand, but he doubted it would make any difference.

Harry took in a deep breath. It was only his imagination. Feelings like these were just a result of all the tension that was building inside the school. His friends had not abandoned him, and they were sitting only ten feet away. He could walk up to them and they would greet him cheerfully, as they always did.

Nothing had changed.

"Hello Harry!" Hermione said brightly as he sat down beside Ron and looked over at what they were working on.

Harry smiled at her in response. He was right.

"It's nearly lunchtime, have you been sleeping this whole time?"

He nodded.

"Give him a break Hermione. Umbridge's been making him stay in her room half the night." Ron was sticking up for him.

"I know that Ron! I just thought maybe he wasn't feeling well...you're alright, Harry?"

"I'm fine. I was just tired, that's all." The look on Hermione's face was unconvinced. She was worrying about him again, as she always did. But Ron didn't seem troubled.

"How about a game of chess then?"

"Yeah, alright," Harry replied, as Ron stood up to fetch the chess board and pieces.

Hermione sighed with impatience.

"Ron, you know, we do have a test in Potions class tomorrow. And you haven't even finished your Astronomy homework!" she pointed to the piece of parchment lying on the table.

"One game wont hurt. Besides, we have all day tomorrow to finish homework!"

But they didn't play just one game. In fact, they wound up playing until

Hermione had put down her quill and started watching them play.

"Ooh Harry, move that one there," she said, pointing to an empty square.

"I can't Hermione, he'll use his knight to take it. See?"

"Oh...well, how about there?"

Harry and Ron exchanged glances.

"Bishops can only move diagonally," Ron said, in an air of superiority. He knew something Hermione didn't.

Hermione folded her arms defiantly, but continued to watch until it was time to go to lunch.

"I don't see the point in it really. I mean, I know it's good for coming up with strategies. And you use loads of logic. But I don't see what else it can impro-" Hermione began, but Ron cut her off.

"How about it's just for a bit of fun?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"But there's no point."

"Hermione, if it were up to you, the world would be full of unhappy, wounded people because everything they did and touched had a point. I mean honestly, don't you think that's a health hazard?"

"Don't be absurd! I didn't mean it like that!" Hermione said huffily.

"Well, quit trying to give everything a meaning."

"It's not my fault! I don't see-"

"The point. We got it. Now can we eat?"

Harry grinned slightly as he listened to their conversation. He felt somewhat grateful that they had stopped arguing and they could move along to the Great Hall.

After lunch, the three made their way out onto the lawns and sat down underneath a large tree by the lake. Ron burped loudly.

"Ron!"

"What! I can't help it!"

"Well, you could at least say 'excuse me'," Hermione said, opening a book and laying back against the tree.

Ron muttered something before looking off into the distance. Harry watched curiously, wondering what they were thinking. He noticed the Prefect badges glinting on the fronts of their robes and something stabbed him deep inside his stomach.

Again the thought arose, how had Ron gotten to be Prefect and he hadn't? Surely his grades were as good as Ron's. And the both of them got into trouble together, so obviously that wasn't uneven. So why had Dumbledore chosen Ron? It was clear that Hermione would be one; she was the smartest in their class, not to mention a very religious rule-follower. Or at least, she had been until their encounter with the troll in their first year. No one doubted she could follow in Professor McGonnagal's footsteps if she wanted to. But Harry knew she didn't. Why else did she always agree to help him, even if it meant bending a few rules?

"Harry?"

He awoke from his reverie and turned to see Ron looking at him.

"Hm?"

"How do you suppose the giant squid got into the lake?"

Harry actually laughed out loud. Hermione looked up from her book, and smiled. It was such a random thing to say, he couldn't resist giving it a thought.

"Maybe it was one of Hagrid's creatures," he said, laughing again.

"I wouldn't doubt it," said Hermione. "If someone ever got on that squid's bad side, it could do some serious damage.

"Making it a perfect pet, in Hagrid's eyes," Ron said, sitting up from his flat position on the ground.

"But why would Professor Dumbledore let him keep it?"

"Defense? Madness? Who knows. Then again, there's that giant spider in the forest still." Harry watched as Ron shuddered slightly.

"I don't think Dumbledore knows about Aragog though," Hermione said whimsically.

"But who could miss a gigantic blob with long tentacles?" Ron asked.

"Good point."

"Maybe it's there to protect the merpeople," Harry said, thinking of the second task he had had to face last year in the Triwizard Tournament. He remembered how gullible he had been, thinking the merpeople had actually taken Ron for good.

Hermione and Ron nodded silently, thinking about it for a moment.

"You know...I think you may be right Harry. I mean, there's only a few people that really knew about them before the Triwizard Tournament. Those who have read Hogwarts, A History in any case," Hermione said, looking pointedly at Ron.

Ron chose to ignore her stare and said, "Yeah...though, I don't see why they'd need protecting. Very vicious creatures...kidnapping us like that." He scoffed.

"Ron, that was for the competition."

"I didn't ask to be Harry's task!"

"Well I didn't ask to be Viktor's either, but you know McGonnagal told us what was going to happen."

"Speaking of Viktor..."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh forget it, would you."

There was a long silence.

Later that night, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all gathered around a table, quills and parchment out. Hermione had successfully talked them into getting at least one assignment done so they would be one up tomorrow, and would have more free time. This, of course, meant being silent and studious, unless they wanted a glare from Hermione.

"Psst, Harry. What did you come up with for number eight on the potions assignment?" Ron hissed, glancing worriedly at Hermione, who was seated next to him.

Harry slid his paper silently over to Ron, who just as slyly turned it around to read the answers.

"Ron!"

Both boys jumped and Ron looked about innocently.

"Harry, don't let Ron copy off of you. He wont learn that way.

"Oh Hermione, he's not going to learn it anyway. It'd just be best for him to take my answer and at least get a better grade than he would have done."

Hermione shook her head.

"Don't make me separate you."

Harry and Ron laughed, but stopped immediately afterwards, because they had recieved a rather contemptuous stare.

A short while later, Harry stood up and stretched. Hermione watched him like a hawk, and asked after he had finished his yawn, "Did you finish?"

"Yes Hermione," he said begrudgingly, showing her his completed paper.

"Good." Her expression changed, so that instead of strict and foreboding, she looked kind and concerned. "Good night then."

"G'night," he said to the both of them before heading up to his dormitory. Ron watched Harry disappear, his quill suspended in midair.

"Ron, you're dripping ink all over your assignment!"

"Oh, sorry." He looked down and Hermione took out her wand and waved it over his paper. The excess ink disappeared.

"Thanks..."

The Common Room slowly emptied, but Hermione and Ron stayed, working away.

Ron looked up and yawned, setting his quill down.

"Hermione-"

"No Ron."

"But why not?"

"Because you're not finished."

"But I'm tired."

"So am I."

"You sure don't look it."

Hermione looked at him.

"I hide my feelings well," she said simply, before returning to her work. Ron watched her, and tapped his quill on his paper idly, wishing he could just run up to the dormitory and go to sleep. But there was something else keeping him there, something besides the assignment she was forcing him to do.

"Ron, why aren't you writing?"

"Sorry..." he muttered.

"Don't apologize to me. It's your own fault if you don't finish this."

He looked down at his paper and stared at his own handwriting until he felt that she had looked away from him. He then looked back at her, brown hair tucked behind her ears, and her small nose pointed down toward the parchment. With Harry now gone, and he alone with Hermione, he felt somewhat free. He couldn't explain where the feeling came from, but it was there all the same.

"Hermione..."

"_What!"_

"...No, nothing."

Hermione looked up at him impatiently.

"Say it now. If you need help, I'll help you, but don't hesitate, because I'm getting rather frustrated," she set her quill down harder than she had intended and it bounced out of her hand and fell to the floor between them. Ron bent over to grab it for her, and at the same time, so did she. They looked up at each other, and as they did, their lips touched. It happened so fast, Ron didn't understand what had happened until he felt Hermione gasp. But she didn't pull away.

He looked at her worriedly, expecting her to pull out her wand and hex him into oblivion, but she didn't. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be enjoying it. She moved closer to him, and he felt her warmth against his side. He didn't know what he was doing when he put his arms around her, holding her to him. Her lips trembled slightly, but she continued to kiss him.

Ron was barely aware of the warm fire that cast their long shadows on the wall opposite, nor did he notice the other presence in the room, watching them, his heart burning like kindle. Perhaps his imagination had not been at fault. This was reality, as cruel and evil as it seemed.


End file.
